The Dallas Drabble Collection
by JustAnotherNinetiesBitch
Summary: One-shots from both the original series and the TNT reboot. *Some pieces have been posted elsewhere (Soapchat, Tumblr etc.)*
1. I Love You, Mama

**Version:** Dallas TNT  
 **Feat.:** Sue Ellen Ewing, John Ross Ewing  
 **Time Period:** Season 2, Episode 8 ("J.R.'s Masterpiece")  
 **Synopsis:** After J.R.'s funeral, Sue Ellen and John Ross have a heart-to-heart.  
 **Status:** Complete

* * *

 **I Love You, Mama**

 _"I'm a bit drunk now."_

His mother's fearless confession had astounded the many mourners at his father's private funeral, but the revelation left John Ross unmoved. Her blurred attempt to paint the picture of continued sobriety had been transparent, at best. A delicate kiss from her lips to his cheek had translated the musky scent of Bourbon in the warmth of her breath; the quiver of her hand on his only revived the warped memories of her emotional instability. Her love affair with alcohol had been almost as passionate and involuntary as the one she shared with his father. To have been a witness, and sole proof, of their love, John Ross could only smile in alliance with the irony that over twenty years of sobriety had been shattered by the loss of the one man who had cruelly manipulated her very addiction. A tirade of belittlement or declaration of worship could either rupture or sustain her resolve to overcome her inclination to the bottle.

While his mother's tormented disclosure of her relapse had disturbed family and dear friends, John Ross didn't have to stretch his imagination to appreciate the allure the bottle must have held for his mother in the wake of J.R.'s death. The brash burn of the amber liquid his father had so dearly favoured had become a piece of his father like the heartbeat in his chest, and John Ross cherished the memory. A liquidated symbol of his father in the tumbler with his name imprinted on it; a name John Ross himself had inherited, and with it, the many responsibilities his father had shouldered; one of them, his mother.

"Mama..." His knuckles rapped on the door to his father's bedroom at Southfork. The uncertainty of what he may find behind it unnerved John Ross almost as much as the prospect of the future years without his father to captain him through the unpredictable Neverland that was the oil business; his father the heroic Peter Pan. "Mama, I know you're in there." He pushed the white door open but his feet remained rooted on the other side of the doorway line. There she sat, at his father's round table, the near-empty bottle her only confidante. His hand cemented to the handle, John Ross studied his mother's stricken form as her hands clutched his father's jacket, an off-white shade to match his less-than-perfect persona.

With the material clutched to the pit of her stomach, Sue Ellen's eyes drifted from John Ross to the picture in the golden frame. Her son and pictures like this were the only physical reminders left to prove their love ever existed, for her memories could never fully express how far deeper their relationship ran past that infamous Burton and Taylor dynamic. The outside world could never comprehend the inevitability of the life she had shared with J.R., not even their only son. And, as much as that realisation wounded her heart, Sue Ellen rather liked it; for if no one could fully understand the connection they shared, then no one could control it, and no one could break it - and no one ever had. "I'm sorry, John Ross." Her weary offer of remorse was just about all she could muster in the aftermath. Remorse for the loss of J.R., remorse for any humiliation her momentary weakness may have caused him, but remorse, most of all, because she didn't have the power to switch places with J.R.. In her heart of hearts, Sue Ellen didn't flatter herself into thinking she had more to offer their son than his father did, nor would she blame John Ross if he wished the circumstances could be reversed. The resentment acquired after an inadequate childhood had created an impasse for their relationship but J.R. had fearlessly fractured the walls John Ross had shut the world off with. Had J.R. lived on, Sue Ellen had no doubt that father and son would have continued to create an invincible parternship and it was that loss of possibilities which manifested itself in John Ross' grief almost as much as the loss of J.R. himself. "I know how much I've disappointed you." Her conscience ached to know the blame for estrangement between father and son lay solely at her feet, which meant ultimately John Ross' sadness did also.

The voice of his father's circled in his head like a vulture - "from tip to tail" - and it ushered John Ross into the one position he didn't feel qualified for; his mother's support system. "You didn't disappoint me, mama." Despite his best efforts, his once powerful form had become a stricken version of itself; his shoulders had buckled underneath the weight of his father's loss. It occurred to Sue Ellen just how much he mirrored J.R. upon the loss of Jock. Like father, like son, John Ross possessed a similar look of defeat in his eyes; any colour they usually shone with had deadened to an eerie shade of stone, like a blue sky clouded over by an ominous storm. With his father's stride, John Ross slowly approached his mother and removed the bottle from her reach. A puddle of Bourbon rippled at the bottom and John Ross pulled aside the other glass to match his mothers and carefully refilled both with one hand. "To dad." For a mere second, Sue Ellen hesitated in uncertainty but followed her son's lead. The clink of the tumblers echoed in the silent room and they identically devoured the drink with a swift, perfected motion.

Her son positioned himself across the table from her and tilted his head back, his eyes closed in a faint attempt of defiance at their situation. "May he rest in peace," Sue Ellen sadly reciprocated the sentiment.

Nearly five minutes of dedicated silence swirled in the air around them before John Ross opened his eyes and earnestly studied the crestfallen expression his mother so beautifully held. John Ross often found himself infatuated by his mother's serene beauty, even in her most desolate moments. Like him, his father held an inescapable sway over Sue Ellen and John Ross could appreciate the pointlessness she must have experienced at the news of J.R.'s death, like a planet with no fiery sun to habitually orbit; Sue Ellen needed J.R.. In fact, almost everyone who came in contact with J.R. would find themselves revolving around him. But, while the rest of the world could find higher purpose to move forward, John Ross anticipated his mother to float aimlessly in turmoil. "I know it must have been difficult for you, to say what you did at J.R.'s funeral." The sincerity of his eyes drew Sue Ellen in, just another example of how naturally John Ross paralleled J.R.. "I'm proud of you." For the first time since the news of J.R.'s death, Sue Ellen allowed her lips to slowly curl into a genuine, if not half-hearted, smile. "And daddy would be too." Early on, it had been drilled into John Ross just how in need of guidance his mother could be, when she succumbed to her most fragile state. Every mannerism, every expression held a seperate definition, from the bow of her head, to the quiver of her lips. Without caution, John Ross stretched his hands in her direction and squeezed hers in his. "I know I've been hard on you, I've manipulated you to side with me but I never meant any of it." Sometimes, it bemused John Ross just how much of his parents he had inherited, if he could conceal his emotions so well that not even they could read between the external play of resentment. "I don't blame you for what happened in the past and, despite what I've said... I have always known I was raised in love. Sure, at times, it felt more like a battlefield." His dry remark elicited a tearful laugh from Sue Ellen and John Ross firmly ensured her eyes fathomed the honesty in his statement. "But I never doubted the love the two of you shared, and the letter daddy wrote you, the words you said today only confirmed what I've always known." And, with that, the invisible cloud which rained above Sue Ellen's head instantly lifted and sailed on to its next unsuspecting victim, though surely her sadness remained.

Sue Ellen carefully brushed away her tears with the final tissue left in the box. As John Ross relcutantly released her other hand, she nudged the golden frame in his direction. "I have been in this room countless of times since your father left that wretched nursing home and not once did I notice this picture. Can you believe he kept it, after all these years?" The discovery only filled her conscience with more guilt; whereas J.R. had proudly kept their history on display, she had quite literally swept every picture into an old box, aside from any which included their son.

"I believe it." John Ross proudly nodded his head, "He loved you, 'til the end."

More tears continued to brim over her wide, hazel eyes, trapped in anothe universe of "what if" and Sue Ellen pursed her lips in an attempt to stifle her emotion. "And I love him." The wrinkled letter on the desk attracted her attention and John Ross followed her line of vision to it, until she unpredictably let slip a giggle. "What did I tell you? The very second he heard word about my alliance with your uncle Gary, J.R. experienced the one emotion he has never been able to handle well; jealousy. I knew he'd try to manipulate me." Her hands wrapped around the piece of paper which held perhaps the last words J.R. had ever written and she pressed it to her chest. "Call me crazy, John Ross, but if your father had made it back from Mexico, I may have found myself wandering down the aisle all over again."

Her son couldn't help but smirk, "Third time's the charm."

"And I would have been the proudest mother in all of Texas to have you walk beside me." Before she found herself maddened by the shattered promise of tomorrow, Sue Ellen shook her head free. Her eyes freely surveyed the room; all his belongings remained in place as if he were due to return. His hat still balanced on the nook of the sofa, his bed spread in anticipation for its inhabitant and his distinct smell lingered in the air which Sue Ellen readily inhaled. One look at her son and Sue Ellen knew on instinct how her son felt, in that moment. "He's everywhere, isn't he?" She didn't know whether the promise of his presence would forever comfort them, or torment them, but Sue Ellen felt an innate kind of peace, as if she were still under his protection. "John Ross, would you mind terribly if I asked you to stay here with me tonight?" The piece of his father inside him forced his head to kindly shake in assurance and Sue Ellen shot her son a smile of relief, "Thank you."

"I just need to make a call first." His mannerisms remained frightfully calm as he slipped from his father's bedroom and entered the marooned kitchen, his emotions still contained. Number 3 on speed-dial, positioned after his parents, John Ross connected with Pamela Rebecca. "You and I have a few matters to discuss." His eyes stared blankly ahead, determined to work his own direction in the maze his father had left him; a maze Bobby had invariably chosen to keep to himself. "Meet me tomorrow. I'll let you know where and when." Before Pamela Rebecca could either decline or accept his request, John Ross concluded the call. Upon his return to his father's bedroom, John Ross noticed the sudden darkness which had overwhelmed the walls, with only his father's bedside lamp to illuminate his vision. His eyes searched the room until the rise and fall of his mother's form in the double bed became clear to him. Her body snaked underneath the crisp sheets, J.R.'s jacket compressed to her chest a mild comfort in the wake of his loss. The letter his father had written awaited fresh eyes, weighted down by one of J.R.'s tumblers, now drop-free of the addictive poison which had undoubtedly been the cause of her sudden, deep slumber. John Ross swiped his father's Stetson and quietly repositioned one of the chairs beside the bed. A hesitant kiss to her cheek, John Ross brushed the few wisps of hair from her closed eyes and her face sleepily buried into J.R.'s pillow as she inhaled that old familiar scent. "I love you, mama."


	2. Toy Truck

**Version:** Dallas (Original)  
 **Feat.:** Sue Ellen Ewing, John Ross Ewing  
 **Time Period:** Season 12, Episode 12 ("No Greater Love")  
 **Synopsis:** The moment referenced during Ann and Sue Ellen's conversation in "False Confessions" (TNT Season 2, Episode 4).  
 **Status:** Complete

* * *

 **Toy Truck**

"John Ross Ewing, don't you dare walk away from me!" Sue Ellen fiercely demanded of her son, infuriated beyond any possible measure by the humiliation his actions had inflicted upon her. The principal of the school had 'invited' her to discuss John Ross' recent behaviour in class. Her cheeks still warmed as she recalled how he had questioned the potential effect her recent divorce and previous issues with alcohol had upon her child. Hours of therapy had allowed Sue Ellen to appreciate what kind of emotional trauma her alcoholism would have caused her son but that didn't make it any less harder to hear. Met with his solemn, sympathetic expression, Sue Ellen found her own head bowed to the floor as if she were the child that deserved to be scolded.

The bedroom door slammed abruptly in her face once she chased the ten year old up the stairs of her new home. "Leave me alone!"

She rolled her eyes, her only defence mechanism from the tears that threatened to overwhelm her, and placed the palm of her hand on the door. His childhood had been a series of unfortunate events; a pawn in their first divorce, only for her and J.R. to remarry and repeat the same old mistakes. The instability of the entire family in the wake of Jock's death, the fire at Southfork… Indeed, it was no picnic to be J.R. and Sue Ellen Ewing's only child; Sue Ellen couldn't fault his resentment. As much as the second divorce devastated John Ross, as he would eventually come to understand, they were far better off apart. "John Ross, please." Her knuckles rapped on the bedroom door and she entered to discover the little boy curled up on the bed, his face buried in the pillow in the hopes it would muffle his sobs. "Sweetheart…"

"I hate you." He muttered, his head turned in a refusal to accept her presence as she wandered close to the bed and reached out to touch him. Their relationship had hit a definitive bump in the road, especially since John Ross discovered that Sue Ellen had been the one to shoot his father. One too many confrontations in school had certainly awarded him the attention he craved from one parent but his father remained far too invested in the family company to scold John Ross.

"John Ross, I don't like this any more than you do." She reached the real heart of the matter as to where John Ross' sadness derived from and softly exhaled. "Unfortunately, your actions have left me with little choice." Boarding school was her last resort but John Ross' continued deviance and refusal to cooperate had led her to it. While she had always been a 'hands-on' kind of parent, Sue Ellen had come to realise that he had spun out of her control. The endless disappointments John Ross had experienced, at her own hands, had destroyed their ability to communicate effectively.

"Then send me back to Southfork. Let me live with dad." John Ross lifted his head from the pillow and pleaded.

Torn, Sue Ellen softly shook her head. "Southfork isn't an option." She appreciated how much John Ross missed his family but J.R. simply didn't have the natural mindset of a father to instinctively place the needs of John Ross above all, even his own and that of the company. Sue Ellen refused to let her son wander into that kind of battlefield, "Your father is far too preoccupied."

John Ross scrambled from the bed, dismissive of his mother's threat, which had quickly become a reality. "Daddy will never let you send me away." He had faith, unbreakable faith in his father.

Resentful of the bitterness aimed in her direction, Sue Ellen calmly rose to her feet. "Well, your father wasn't the one awarded full custody, which means he has no say in the matter." She hardened her heart to the look of hopeless imprisonment that flashed upon John Ross' face and she motioned toward the wardrobes that had only recently been filled with his clothes. "Pack your things. Whatever you forget can be shipped to you."

"I won't go and you can't make me!" Furiously, John Ross seized for the nearest object within his reach - his toy truck - and propelled it in his mother's direction. The heap of plastic could be heard coming into contact with his mother as it scraped a fine piece of skin from the left side of her forehead and blood quickly surfaced. John Ross panicked, instantly remorseful, and swallowed the lump in his throat.

Momentarily stunned, Sue Ellen raised a hand to her head in an effort to survey the blood that drizzled down to her cheek, produced by impact. Dismissive of the incident, she brushed any loose curls from her face and closed the door behind her as she departed the room. "We leave for the airport in an hour." Once alone in her own bedroom, Sue Ellen locked herself in the en-suite and finally permitted the sting of tears to release her own sobs as she tended to the cut on her head. No doubt, John Ross would likely despise her for the decision to send him away but she had run out of viable options, and she prayed that the distance and time would allow John Ross to heal. Perhaps, if he was only permitted to escape the constant turmoil that so naturally enveloped their family, he would be freed from the traumatic experiences of their past. Then, one day, they could look back and smile as they reminisced on the silly scuffles and the scar his toy truck had left behind.


End file.
